Just Friends ⇸ Stiles Stilinski

His Blue Jeep

        A groan escapes my lips as my alarm blares in my ears. I tap it off and begin to slowly stretch my muscular limbs. I turn from my stomach and push myself to a sitting position, then grab my black, thick glasses. I have terrible eye sight, though I usually wear contacts.   I place the heels of my hands to my eye sockets and gently rub the sleep away. I remove my hands as I swing my legs over the side of my soft matteress. I push up once again, my hands digging into the foam of the bed. Once I've gotten to my feet, I stumble into the bathroom and turn on the hot water, letting it run over my palm. As the water heats up, I quickly disrobe, before jumping under the stream. Once I've washed, I jump back out of the shower, and throw on a casual outfit. I pick out a white, fitted t shirt, a golden threaded over sized sweater and a pair of grey jeans. Once I pull the full outfit on, I walk back into the bathroom and quickly blow my hair dry, watching it as it naturally regains it's waviness. I take off my thick rimmed glasses and push my eyelids in as I float contacts into my hazel eyes. I press eye liner around my eye and brush mascara onto my eyelashes, before turning back towards my room. I pick up my black book bag, and open the door to my room.

        I drop my bag as the base of the stairs and walk into the kitchen, ruffling my eleven year old sister, Layla's dark hair. She shrunches up her nose and glares at me as I grab an apple from the bowl of fruit placed on the kitchen counter.

        "Morning, looser." she says, frowning.

        "Morning brat." I reply, with a fake smile. 

        "Mom! Indie called me a brat!" Layla screeches, summoning our pant-suit clad mother. 

        "Indigo, be nice to your sister." My mom demands. I roll my eyes as I walk back over to the stairs, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my right shoulder. I slump down on the steps and lace up my black converse over white socks.

        "I thought I told you to call me Indie." I say, with a frown. "If that can do it, you can too." I conclude with a hand gesture to Layla . She sticks her tongue out at me. 

        Just then, I hear an unmistakable honk from the driveway, and immediately tear out the door. I jump down the two steps, a smile spreading across my face when I see his blue jeep. I pull on the black handel to the passenger side door and let it swing open.

        "Morning Mr. Stilinski." I say, imitating our princepal's voice. The two of us were normally the ones to get in trouble, though I was usually the one to get caught. 

        "Morning Ms. Langdon." I says back in the same gruff voice. I give a small laugh as I slide into the seat next to him, a habit of tradition ever since he got his driver's licence. And even before he could drive, we some how got to school together. Ever since the third grade. I had moved from my home town, Melbourne down under and Stiles and our friend Scott were the only two people who talked to me. I'm a bit of a loner, and I don't even have and female friends. Guys just have a lot less drama and suit my interests more. Though one downside to having guy friends is that one question that you constantly get asked. "Are you guys dating?" 

        And to be honnest, I'm still waiting for that day when I can reply with a yes. Stiles and I had been friends since third grade, but I've had a giant crush on him since fifth. And I'm fairly certain that he's the only one who doesn't know. Let's just say that though guys have less drama, they're terrible at keeping secrets. That's why I've never told Scott, Stiles or anyone else what happened to me back on one friday of the full moon in eighth grade...

        "Indie? You okay?" I hear his soothing voice, pulling from the trace I'm in and now I realize that my eyes are locked on his. A flush of heat rushes to my face, tinting my cheeks pink.